


Like every word you said was meant to be

by Liilaac



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Losers Club (IT), Angst, Complicated Relationships, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Bickering, Found Family, Gossip, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Long-Distance Relationship, Losers Club (IT) Friendship, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28339140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liilaac/pseuds/Liilaac
Summary: Back in LA, Richie doesn’t feel so lonely anymore. Losers stick together, right? Daily hangouts and weekly dinner are now the norm… But something, someone, is still missing. Doing his best to settle his divorce in New York, Eddie is late to the party.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Comments: 7
Kudos: 76





	Like every word you said was meant to be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wings_g_leviosa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wings_g_leviosa/gifts).



> Merry Christmas! I'm so honored that my first fic on here is a gift to such an amazing person ahahah. This was written as part of a Secret Santa exchange with so many great people! Sorry for the little delay and I hope you (or anyone else reading this little fic) will enjoy. I apologize in advance for any mistakes I left in there but english isn't my first language and sometimes it's hard. Also, a big thanks to the lovely Pie for proofreading this in record time and for her precious advices!
> 
> The title is taken from the lyrics of "Even The Losers" by Tom Petty because that just seems like the perfect song ahahah.

Bev takes the cigarette out of Richie’s fingers and takes a drag before handing it back to him. 

He groans. “When you said you were gonna stop smoking, I didn’t know it was a way of saying you just weren’t going to pay for your cigarettes anymore,” he complains with a little smirk. 

Bev rolls her eyes. Her fingers are tapping anxiously on the table. 

“She’s been a bit stressed out since she’s trying to stop,” Ben informs, a hand softly going up and down his girlfriend’s back. “But I’m proud of her and I know she can do it.” 

“Yeah, sure, proud of you,” Richie smirks at Bev, “but please stop stealing my cigarettes. You put lipstick all around them and then it tastes funny.” 

“You CANNOT taste the lipstick, Rich. Stop being so fucking annoying.” 

“I’m being annoying? I’m not the one stealing cigarettes!” Richie throws his hands in the air and Bev shoots him a deathly glare. 

Thankfully, Stan and Patty arrive with the coffees, which eases the tension. 

“Children, settle down please,” Stan smirks. They both roll their eyes at him, but they’ve calmed down. They all sit and take their respective drinks. Stan hands Richie his extra sugar, extra whip cream caramel latte with a look of disgust. 

“So what’s up?” Patty smiles, her sunglasses creating an orange halo on her cheeks. 

“Well Bev and I finally finished our kitchen,” Ben cheers. He squeezes his girlfriend’s shoulder and she nods enthusiastically. “We’ll have to invite you guys over soon.”

“Oh that’s great!” Everyone agrees before Stan adds, “we should wait for everyone to get here, right? That way it’ll be a real Losers Club meeting.” 

“That’s a great idea, baby. Bill, do you have any news from Mike?” 

Bill swallows his mouthful of coffee, and after wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he answers, “He should be here by the end of the week.” 

“Did he find a place?”

“He— He’s just gonna stay with me… f-for a while.” Everyone nods knowingly while Bill drinks his coffee, silent. Finally, he stops and continues, “What about Eddie?” 

He asks the question to everyone, but they’re all waiting for Richie to answer. He fidgets with the hem of his shirt and quickly explains, “I don’t know; the last time I talked to him he was still in the middle of his divorce. Probably gonna take a long time until it’s all settled. I don’t know more.” 

But the truth is that Richie talked to Eddie since all that. Just a few days ago, actually. They talked for hours. Richie remembers how anxious and tired Eddie sounded and how frustrated it had made him. At first, he’d just tried to crack jokes to distract him, as usual, but he’d quickly found out that it wasn’t the best idea. So he had done his best to be thoughtful and caring, even if that ended up getting out of hand and kicking him in the butt… 

Richie snaps out of his thoughts when he notices Stan observing him. He tries to act casual, tries not to think about Eddie because he knows his face will change if he does and Stan will pick up on it… Maybe it works, maybe it doesn’t. The conversation keeps going and Richie drinks his coffee silently. 

—

Later that day, Richie’s hanging out at Bill’s. He doesn’t have to work that day and neither does Bill. Also, he doesn’t want to hang out with Stan because he knows he’ll ask about Eddie and Richie isn’t ready to process everything that has happened yet. 

“Soooo,” Richie starts with a knowing grin. Bill already knows what his friend is about to ask and rolls his eyes. “Mike’s staying here, huh?” 

“Yeah. W-what about it?” 

Richie chuckles, amused by how defensive Bill immediately got. He wonders if he would do the same if someone asked about Eddie… He would probably make a joke out of it, though.

“Chill, man. I’m happy for you.” 

“There’s n-nothing to be happy about.” 

“Right. And that’s why you  _ immediately _ asked Audra for a divorce when you got back from Derry. And not at all because you fell in love with Mike “Dreamy” Hanlon. Riiiiight.” 

“Beep beep.” 

A little silence follows Richie’s chuckles and, finally, he continues, “How was it, by the way? I mean Audra— Was it hard to divorce her?” He knows asking this is kind of rude, but he really is curious. 

“Well, it wasn’t easy. I still cared about her, you know? But it just didn’t work anymore. And she knew that t-too. So I guess the divorce wasn’t the hardest part; admitting that we weren’t right for each other was.” 

“That’s strangely profound, man.” 

Bill shrugs, “And, on top of that, I know she never would’ve moved to LA.” 

Richie nods, the memory of Bill arriving at the airport fresh in his mind. He was the first loser to join Richie in the city of angels. Because of his work, it hadn’t really surprised Richie. Bill would obviously fit in well in Hollywood.  _ Who cares about good endings anyway, huh? _ They spent about a month living together before Bill found a nice apartment. Most of their nights were spent smoking weed and talking about their projects, stars in their eyes and dumb smiles stretching their lips. It was a good month. 

And then the other losers started moving too. He remembers when Stan and Patty told them they were going to visit, and ended up never leaving again. They barely went back to Atlanta to pack their things. And then Ben, building a house while waiting for Bev to settle her divorce, like the true gentleman he was (still is). Richie’s life had undoubtedly changed a lot in the last few months… From the constant group hangs to the almost daily calls with Eddie, Richie barely remembered how it felt to be lonely. And, soon, both Mike and Eddie would live in LA too. Well… that is if what Richie said to Eddie last time they talked didn’t change anything… 

Richie bites his bottom lip anxiously. 

When he goes back to his apartment, he gets a call from Bev. She starts by apologizing about what happened that morning, laughs and says that arguing with him always lets her release tension. 

“What are you doing right now?” She asks after that. 

“Walking home from Bill’s.” 

“You eat yet?” 

Richie shakes his head before remembering they’re actually on the phone. 

“Not yet.” 

“Alright. Why don’t you come over?” 

He agrees, a bit weirded out by the spontaneity. But it’s Bev after all. Bev with whom he’s been going on spontaneous trips pretty much every other day. 

When he gets to the house, he’s surprised to find Bev alone. Ben has to work, she explains. She has two mac & cheese boxes ready in front of the microwave. They heat them up, open a nice bottle of red, and sit down on the couch. Trashy TV is normally their go-to, but Beverly doesn’t turn the TV on this time. She starts making chit-chat and telling Richie what they plan on cooking when all the losers come eat at theirs on Saturday. Richie thinks back to Ben and Bev’s new kitchen and compliments it. She smiles. 

“Sooo,” she goes after a while, her gaze avoiding Richie at all cost, “I got a call from Eddie.” 

Richie does his best not to choke on his food. Eddie and Bev are friends, sure… But this doesn’t sound like a casual phone call. He waits for her to continue. 

“He was worried about you. He said you haven’t been returning his calls.” 

Richie nods softly, because it’s true. He’s been avoiding Eddie as best he can for the last few days. It’s tearing him apart, sure… But it’s better than to face the consequences of his stupid actions. Bev tilts her head to make sure she has his attention. 

“He needs you right now, Rich.” 

“Believe me, he doesn’t,” Richie snaps back without even realizing it. He bites his tongue. Why can’t he just stay quiet?

“Of course he does! You’re his best friend and he’s going through a divorce. Trust me, I know what that feels like.” Richie offers her a sincere smile, because he’s proud of how strong she’s been and he can’t help but to feel his heart beat faster when he thinks about everything that has happened to them. Beverly puts her hand on his. “If I didn’t have Ben and you guys to help me through it, I don’t know what I would’ve done.” 

The fact that Bev compares her and Ben to Eddie and Richie makes his stomach turn. He feels exposed, unmasked. He hopes the blush on his cheeks isn’t too visible. 

“I know he’s got a lot to do, Bev. That’s why I’m staying away.” She opens her mouth to say something, but Richie continues before she can get anything out, “I’m just a distraction, you know? Sure I’m great comedic relief, but that’s not what he needs right now. He needs people who can actually support him instead of my trashy jokes.” 

“Did something happen between you two?” She asks. Bev always knew how to get to him. He presses his lips into a thin line and hesitates for a second.  _ Should he?  _

“Nothing. It’s fine. I’ll text him so he knows I’m okay.”

Bev’s worried face eases a little, but before she can say anything else, Richie thanks her for the dinner he barely touched and stands up, leaving in a hurry. She calls after him, of course. She tells him they don’t have to talk about Eddie anymore, that they can just watch TV like always. But the other man’s name is echoing in Richie’s mind, haunting him from within… He makes up some lame excuse and calls an Uber. 

— 

He drinks himself to sleep that night, alone in his dark apartment. It’s not as pathetic as it sounds, really. He’s used to it. He doesn’t trash is flat or anything like that. He just drinks until he can’t stand up and just passes out in his bed. He somewhat remembers sending a drunk text to Eddie, claiming that he’s fine but just busy. He ignores the call he gets right after that, though. 

The next morning, the ringtone of his phone wakes him up. It’s not Eddie, but Stan. He answers before realizing that it’s actually a FaceTime. Well, too late! Stan’s face greets Richie. He’s outside, his sunglasses on the tip of his nose and a cold drink in his hand. He looks well rested, despite the early hour. 

“Rough night?” he says with his usual lopsided smile. Richie knows he isn’t judging him, he’s just worried. He groans in response and Stan continues, “I got a panicked call from Beverly this morning…”

“Jesus, can you people just stop calling each other all the fucking time?” Richie says with a raspy morning voice. 

Stan chuckles, takes a sip of what appears to be ice tea. “It’s what families do, Rich.”

That makes Richie smile, just a little. He’s pissed and hungover and he just wants to be left alone… But at the same time, it feels good to have Stan check up on him. He’ll never admit it, though. So, in regular Stan fashion, he rolls his eyes. 

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am… I think.”

“Want a latte? I got one for you and I can be there in 5.”

“Sure.”

Richie barely has time to get out of bed before Stan barges into his apartment. They all know Richie’s security code, but normally Stan knocks anyway, out of politeness. Once he’s done making fun of Richie’s bed head, he sits down and hands him his coffee. 

“So, what did our dear Bev tell you?” Richie asks when he’s drank half of his latte. 

“Not much. Just that she was worried about you, about Eddie. She said he needs you and you’re avoiding him.” 

“Right.” 

“So? Is it true?” 

There were never any secrets between them. Richie knew he could tell Stan anything without being judged… Shyly, he nods, “Kinda, I guess.” 

“Wanna tell me more?” 

Stan doesn’t insist when Richie stays silent. He just keeps drinking his ice tea next to him, a soft and comforting smile on his lips.

“I… I said something weird last time we talked,” Richie finally breaks, the silence too heavy for him to bear. “I just— I think it's better if I keep my distance.”

“Might that weird thing have something to do with your feelings for him?” 

Richie never told Stan about how he felt, about how in love he was. Stan just knew. Stan always knew Richie better than he knew himself. Richie shrugs, unable to form words to describe the relentless waves of emotions crashing inside him. Stan puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezes it softly. They smile, sharing without words. 

“You know I’m here if you wanna talk about it,” Stan concludes, getting ready to leave the apartment, “but maybe you should talk about it  _ with him _ , rather than me.” 

Richie’s response is a simple smile, and Stan closes the door behind him. 

— 

As much as Richie wants to follow Stan’s advice, he doesn’t. Instead, he isolates himself from the other losers and spends the next few days alone. His phone keeps buzzing, but he doesn’t bother looking. 

But, when a knock on the door resonates in his ears, he opens it. He’s immediately wrapped up in a big and tight hug. Mike’s smile is wide and contagious when he finally lets Richie go. 

“Hey man! So you’re finally in LA, huh? Ya don’t miss Derry too much, do you?” 

“I don’t… yet. I’ve missed you guys more.” 

Richie notices Bill and spots the faintest blush on his cheeks, which makes him chuckle. 

“Hey Rich,” he greets, “ha-haven’t seen you in a while, huh?” 

“It hasn't even been a week, Billy.” 

“Still, kinda miss having you around and distracting me from work.” 

The smirk on Bill’s face makes Richie ease up a little, he shrugs. Mike offers one of his sincere smiles again. 

“Well then maybe we could go grab a bite together?” 

“Sure. Meet you tonight?” 

“Let’s just go now,” Mike insists, “I need you two to show me around the neighborhood.” 

Bill seems ecstatic at the idea, and Richie doesn’t want to let his friends down. He’s glad neither of them has asked about Eddie yet. He grabs his coat and follows them out the door. He’d almost forgotten Mike’s enthusiasm and constant amazement. Seriously, the man is like an excited puppy! He gasps at pretty much everything he sees, takes hundreds of pictures and selfies in front of random places. 

As much as Richie wants to hate it, he’s having so much fun. The three of them used to hang out a lot during their last years in Derry. They were pretty much the only ones left. And Richie had forgotten how much he’d liked it. 

After hours of random shenanigans, they finally stop at a little bar Richie likes and they order some food and beers. Stan calls Richie then. He still hasn’t checked the hundreds of other messages and missed calls cluttering his phone, but he answers anyway. 

Not even ten minutes later, Stan’s there too. They order another round of beer and the evening just keeps on getting better. They drink and laugh and talk about the good old days and the ones to come. Stan and Bill are tipsy after two beers and it makes Richie and Mike chuckle; they’ve always been lightweights. Richie wishes Eddie could be there too, his cheeks all flushed from the alcohol he hardly ever drinks. He could rant about how alcohol destroys your liver and your brain and whatnot, but he would still drink his beer without complaints. Richie forces himself to stop thinking about it, about him… 

It’s almost midnight when the gang leaves the bar. It’s pretty impressive when you take into account that they’re all forty and that they’ve been here since 6pm. They walk in the street, Mike almost having to carry Bill because of how drunk he is. 

Richie doesn’t want to go home to his empty and cold apartment. And, more importantly, he doesn’t want his lonely brain to focus on thoughts he’s been suppressing the whole evening. 

The group splits, Bill and Mike heading one way and Stan and Richie the other. Stan even insists on walking Richie to his door. 

“That’s very chivalrous of you, Sir Staniel.” 

“Shut up, Rich. I just want to make sure you don’t end up on the sidewalk with half your teeth stuck in the concrete.” 

“Well that took a dark turn.” 

Once they arrive in front of his building, Stan hugs him and maybe Richie holds on for just a little longer. Stan whispers, “It’ll be okay,” in his ear before they step back. Richie watches his friend leave in the night until he turns at the corner of the street and disappears. 

He drags his feet into his dark apartment, not even bothering to turn the lights on; they would only make the sad place colder. He reaches the kitchen to try and find something to eat in the fridge. The light coming from it casts a faint halo over the room. And that’s when Richie notices him. Before he can even say anything, he’s interrupted: 

“For fuck’s sake Richie, are you drunk?” 

He spins around, his gaze focusing on the dark silhouette he knows way too well. He feels more tipsy than drunk but, either way, this is a sobering sight. 

“Not anymore, I— I was out with-“ 

“Yeah, yeah. With Mike and Bill. I know. I’ve been texting them ALL NIGHT. Apparently they decided to ignore me  _ too _ .” 

“Stan was there as well,” Richie blurts out, unable to think of anything else.

The silhouette places its hands on his hips, an angry pout probably plastered on its face. Richie leaps to turn on the light, his skin burning because he can’t clearly make out his face. 

“Eddie,” he finally breathes. 

“Why the FUCK have you been ignoring me for the past week, huh?” Eddie almost screams, sincere sadness hinting in his tone. Richie thinks he can also hear fear, and he doesn’t know what to think of that. 

“I… I’m sorry. I just— I was scared.” 

Eddie’s brows relax slightly, the creases on his forehead smoothing out. Something shines in his big eyes and Richie wants to get lost in them, in him. 

“You’re going through a divorce and you’ve got so much on your plate and I didn’t want to annoy you with my jokes and my— my feelings and whatnot,” Richie croaks, his thoughts too erratic for the words to come out calmly. “I thought maybe it would be best to give you some space and I was scared of what— of how you’d react and I just… I’m sorry, Eds.” 

“It’s okay, Rich.” 

Eddie’s hand flinches and Richie focuses all his attention on it. And, again, slowly, Eddie’s hand rises from his hip and he reaches in front of him to grab Richie’s. The tense silence that had started forming around them gets even more intense. 

“So you’re not— like— you’re not mad at me or something? We can… Can we still be friends?” Saying this makes Richie feel like a little kid… And, to be honest, that’s what he still is, deep down. 

“What? Why would I be mad at you?” 

Richie thinks back to that phone call, thinks back to how stressed and tired Eddie sounded. Richie hated Myra for everything she put Eddie through. She was probably the luckiest woman alive, and she still wasn’t content with that? Unbelievable! And then, he thinks back to what he’d said that night, to his shy and half-hidden confession. He was a bit tipsy, of course, and the words had just started pouring out of him. He remembers not being able to stop talking, to stop telling Eddie how amazing he was and how Richie would’ve given everything to be the one to make Eddie realize that… And then he remembers the hot and burning shame that had seized him all at once. He almost threw up, hanging up as fast as he could after apologizing a few times. Thinking about all this makes Richie’s stomach knot with anxiety. 

“Because… Because of what I said.” 

A softness overtakes Eddie’s features, his lips stretching into a shy smile. Richie can hear his heart beating against his rib cage. He wonders if maybe Eddie can hear it too. 

“Rich, I… Why do you think I came here?” 

“I don’t know. Is your divorce settled?” 

“Not even close.” A dry chuckle escapes Eddie’s lips. Bitterness flashes on his face before his smile reappears. 

“Then… Because I’m a dumbass who wouldn’t answer and you’re a stubborn lil’ thing who traveled all the way to LA so I would HAVE TO talk to you?” 

“That’s more like it.”

But there’s still something missing. Richie doesn’t know why, but he can’t help but feel like he’s not completely understanding what’s happening… Eddie got closer while they talked, one of his hands even resting against Richie’s chest. He must feel Richie’s frenzied heartbeats, he has to. 

The silence comes back, but it’s more comfortable now. Richie’s staring at Eddie, taking his beauty in. He wonders why he’s not being yelled at; he can almost hear Eddie say: “Why the fuck are you staring at me? Rich, stop it!”... but it never comes. Eddie’s just looking up at Richie, his eyes scanning his face with some type of awe in them, his lips slightly pursed. Richie would want nothing more than to brush them with his thumb, who is currently resting on Eddie’s jawline. He forces himself not to, difficultly swallows his saliva, until… 

“For fuck’s sake Richie, are you gonna kiss me or what?” 

Richie’s not sure he heard that right. Maybe he thought about it so much that his brain tricked him into hearing it… But, before he can ask him to repeat, Eddie’s hands lock behind Richie’s neck and he pulls him down into a kiss. His lips are as soft as Richie had imagined them to be. It takes him almost a few seconds to respond to what’s happening, to kiss Eddie back. His hands, which were so shy just a second ago, are now hungrily exploring Eddie’s body. He brushes his thumbs against his jaw, lets them linger on his neck before going down to grab his waist and pull him even closer. His mind is both completely blank and screaming. 

When they break the kiss, they’re both panting and Eddie’s cheeks are tainted in a delicious shade of pink. It reminds Richie of all the time he’d pinched them when they were kids. 

“What?” Eddie whispers, noticing the shock still written all over Richie’s face. 

“I don’t know, I— I just wasn’t expecting that, I guess.” 

A chuckle escapes Eddie’s lips. He repeats, “What?” 

“Just that… I don’t know, I never thought you would— that you’d… huh… You know…” Richie has to take a deep breath to organize his spiraling thoughts. Could Eddie possibly love him back? Despite the passionate kiss they just shared, Richie can’t help but be doubtful. One of his hands leaves Eddie’s waist to scratch his own neck in a nervous gesture. Finally, he settles on, “I never thought you’d like me that way, I guess.” 

Confusion bends Eddie’s face, his brows drawing together once again. Richie’s afraid he just screwed it all, but the soft hand that lands on his cheek reassures him. 

“Richie,” Eddie breathes, “I love you.” 

_ This.  _

This is the happiest Richie has ever been. He doesn’t feel the tears swelling in his eyes while he stares at the man in front of him, analyses his little smirk and the way his eyes shine with all kinds of emotions. 

“Fuck, Eds, I… I love you so much.” 

They’re both tearing up now, but who cares? Richie’s hands find their way back to Eddie’s waist, and he pulls him into a tight embrace, his fingers grabbing the fabric of his shirt, digging at the muscle of his back. And Eddie’s arms are so tight around Richie’s neck that he can barely breathe. He thinks about how Eddie must be on his tiptoes to be able to reach Richie’s height… It makes his heart flutter even more than it already was. 

They spend the next few hours making out and talking about nothing and everything. Richie never stops touching Eddie, his hands always finding a way to be near the love of his life. He thinks about all the times he forced himself to stay away, thought Eddie would hate him if he knew how much Richie wanted to touch him… But now, seeing the way Eddie’s lips quirk up every time his hands are near… It feels like heaven. 

Richie doesn’t even notice the sun peaking through the blinds. They’ve been up all night, yet he barely feels tired. He received a text from Bill saying ” _ hope u had a great night :)” _ and it makes him chuckle.

“Maybe we should get some rest.” 

“Now? It’s almost 7am,” Eddie protests just before yawning loudly. 

“Yeah, but looks like you need it.” 

They’re already sitting at the end of the bed, but Richie drags himself to the pillows, puts his glasses on the night table. He gestures towards Eddie, his arms open. He fits right in, filling the space around Richie’s chest perfectly. 

After a little silence, Eddie whispers, “Hey Rich… I… I gotta go back to New York in a few days, to take care of the divorce and all that. I hope that’s okay? I just… I understand if that’s too much.” 

“We’ve got time, Eds. We’ve got all the time we need, alright? I’ll wait for you. Hell, I’ll wait forever if I have to.”

Eddie sniffs and Richie pets his hair softly. 

“You won’t have to,” is the last thing Richie hears before falling asleep.


End file.
